Belga Queen restaurant in Brussels. Photo / Supplied
Belga Queen restaurant in Brussels. Photo / Supplied
Nicholas Jones gets an exclusive taste of Belgian hospitality, from ancient beers to modern bathrooms.
I had certain expectations when I saw the first item on the itinerary in Brussels: a beer-tasting session with a group of Australian journalists.
They weren't met. Severe jet lag and the fact that two of our group didn't care for beer meant there was soon a slightly embarrassing collection of unemptied glasses filling our outside table.
Luckily Jean, the owner of Moeder Lambic, had more than enough enthusiasm to carry the session, giving us a rundown of the brewing process behind each beer and the boutique brewery's history.
Chez Moeder Lambic Fontainas. Photo / Bernt Rostad, Flickr
Hearing we were off to Flanders, he explained World War I's effect on Belgium's famous beer.
Almost every small village had its own style and tradition of brewing. The number of breweries dropped from around 3000 to about 600 after the war, because the Germans had dismantled the vats to reuse the copper.
There are about 250 breweries today, but the big four control most of the market and have restrictive contracts with most bars.
"But it's about to change. Like in Star Wars, the rebellion will win," Jean says, almost under his breath.
Moeder Lambic was the first independent bar in Brussels and is at the spearhead of that indie revolution.
There are 22 tap beers on the menu today, each served in its own special glass and more often than not with a side order of cheese and salami.
We taste a malty lager, wheat beer - "a little citrusy", Jean says - and a delicious stout.
The final beer is most memorable, not just for its pink colour. It's a Cantillon Brewery organic raspberry version of the lambic style of beer, the oldest in the world.
All the sugar changes during fermentation, meaning the beer is totally dry and acidic.
Lambic beers are coming back in popularity, and Jean's bar - "Mother Lambic" - was the first in Brussels to serve a lambic on tap.
It's too sour for me, and I'm happy to move on to the other quintessential Brussels experience - chocolate.
Belgium's capital is a mash-up of old and new architecture that doesn't always gel, but one stunningly-beautiful spot is Galerie de la Reine Koninginne, or the royal galleries.
Inaugurated in 1847, it's a long thin mall enclosed by a curved glass roof six floors above, and lined with shops selling Delvaux handbags, fine chocolates, and hats and gloves. At one end is Mary, named after the first woman master chocolatier.
Laid out behind the glass panels are a staggering array of handmade, fresh-cream chocolates. Mary is the supplier to the Belgian royal family, and the manager is suitably sniffy when asked how it and so many other chocolate shops in the complex survive.
"They are not our competition, because they are not handmade," is the apparently obvious answer.
There's more opulence when we have dinner at Belga Queen. We reach for our phone cameras as we walk into the breathtaking dining room, all pink marble, leather booths and softly-lit table lamps, a stained glass skylight above.
It's old-money Europe pleasingly combined with more than a dash of Euro trash. Leather-bound menus open up to reveal the menu displayed on an iPad, including a "pimp your dish" option of adding Russian Osietra caviar, at $22 for 5g. The room is full of men in expensive suits and women in more expensive-looking jewellery, and a lifesize statue of a silver horse sits in the middle of the splendour.
There's no room for stage fright in the unisex bathrooms - glass doors on the cubicles steam over only when the lock is turned. A stairway descends to a cigar room. When we go for a look after dessert it's empty but for a sole staff member. Cigars are displayed behind a glass panel, at about $47.50 a pop.
Lights flash in the darkness and trance music thumps from a speaker.
We emerge on to the street blinking into the sunlight and our jet lag, for a moment unsure if it's evening or morning.
